James Avis Bartley, Lays of Ancient Virginia, and Other Poems
“ Not even her slaves, a tear above her, dead—That Virtue lives—the rainbow child of heaven,And holds the balance in these centuries even? The Golden Age! the words are still the same,—The meaning once man's glory—now his shame.Hail thou new Golden Age! O heavenly Age!Mankind sustains thee with a noble rage:All, all unite to gild thee with some raysOf gathered light—themselves with shining praise.See! how they rush, and leave sweet childhood's home,The serf his hut, the lordly man his dome,Forsakes, with callous heart, each hallow'd scene,The oft frequented tree, the shady green ”
